Positions
by DrKCooper
Summary: Jacqueline has a request of Jane.


_Disclaimer: All recognizable _The Bold Type_ characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners including, but not limited to Freeform. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this fan fiction story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No financial gain is associated with the publishing of this story. No copyright infringement is intended._

**Positions**

"Say hello," Jacqueline instructed her son as Jane walked into the boss's office.

Connor Carlyle was sitting on the floor using the coffee table as a desk to work on homework. He looked up and remembered Jane from her visit to the house.

"Hello, Jane," he said with a megawatt smile that he clearly got from his mother.

"Good morning, Connor. What brings you to the office today?" Jane asked and he immediately looked to his mom.

"Don't ask." Jacqueline gave him a stern look and Jane felt like she'd stepped in it.

"What's up?" she said to the lovely-looking boss lady who had called her into the office. The tall blonde often wore ear climber earrings and today she had on a pair that were gold bars. They looked amazing.

"Have a seat. Let's go over your article. I'm not loving the direction."

Jane sat and immediately got nervous. Unlike her usual nerves when Jacqueline gave her that intense powerbroker stare, Jane was nervous because of the subject matter.

"You don't like the conclusion," she didn't elaborate, knowing exactly what the issue was.

"No, I don't. I would like you to clarify. Give it another pass."

The editor-in-chief had come to expect plenty of fidgeting from the writer and sure as a sunrise it made itself known. She knew this conversation wasn't over.

"Could you give me a bit more direction?" She said while slightly turning her head toward Connor to assess his level of interest.

"If you ask the question of whether there is a thing as too much casual sex, you're going to have to give a reason why. You can't say it's different for every individual. That's a cop out. Obviously, you have a take, explain it. Explain why you think a person can have too much casual sex. Why limit yourself?" Jacqueline was nothing if not direct.

Jane cleared her throat; she was glad she couldn't see Connor's face behind her. She would have seen that he was finding the conversation laughable.

"I—yes, okay." She refused to answer the question in front of Jacqueline's youngest child.

"Let me know if I can be of help."

Jane was dismissed. Connor smiled at her and she reddened.

...

"Take a ride with me," Jacqueline said as she walked by Jane's desk on her way to the elevator.

Reaching the elevator, Jane found this curious.

"I want to apologize for making you uncomfortable earlier," the blonde said as the doors closed.

"Oh," Jane looked out the corner of her eye unsure why the apology.

Shifting to a position leaning against the adjacent elevator wall, Jacqueline continued: "I had ulterior motives discussing your work in front of my son."

Jane's curiosity rose.

"I want him to see what we do here," she ran a hand through her high-styled hair. "He _needs_ to see what we do here."

An arched eyebrow compelled more.

"He has been suspended from school. He punched a classmate in my defense," she shook her head.

"Why do you need defending?" the writer asked.

"The classmate goaded Connor by telling him his mom was the editor of a porn magazine."

"Oh my god! That's terrible. Good for Connor," Jane retorted.

Dropping her chin to her chest and tilting her head, Jacqueline gave the young woman a look that said Jane was definitely not helping.

"I want him to see what we do at _Scarlet_. Tomorrow I will have him sit in as I do the mockups and he will see that the magazine is clearly not of the erotic variety."

Jane's stomach twisted at the mere sound of her boss saying 'erotic'.

"Perhaps you shouldn't allow him to see the sex position column," she smothered her own laughter.

"Yeah, probably wise. Especially this week's—"

"Lesbian sex position."

Jacqueline snickered at how ridiculous and unnecessary this entire charade was.

The elevator reached the lobby and the editor pushed off the wall, composing herself. Jane couldn't let her go. She grabbed the blonde's wrist and waited for Jacqueline to turn to face her.

"I'm sorry for what that kid said," the anger in Jane's eyes was buffered by the genuine apology in her voice.

"Thank you, Jane."

...

Connor was in a shirt, tie and khakis. He looked sharp. He was definitely a Carlyle.

"Who wants to explain why this fashion layout is all wrong?" Jacqueline was in fine form, putting on full display her head bitch in charge persona. Dressed in a grey suit with a white camisole that distracted the hell out of a certain brunette writer, she was on her game.

"Proportions are all off," Sutton bashfully answered.

"Let's fix the type and move the graphic to the opposite corner. Fix the proportions of the model and accessories.

"Jane? Are you content with your layout?" Jacqueline noted where Jane's notice was led. She silently prayed her nipples hadn't hardened. Her white cami was not going to conceal them.

"Umm...yes," the blush was thankfully not widely attributable to Jane's line of sight. Still.

"Alex?" Jacqueline's grin was undeniable as she moved on to each featured writer.

Connor was truly interested in the mockups and watched his mother nearly as intently as Jane had.

"Sage, let's talk about your contribution later."

Jane dropped her head, biting her lip. Oh, how awkward it would be to address the latest sex position column with the young man in the room. The more Jane considered it the more awkward, though likely simulating, she thought it would be to listen to her extremely attractive and confident boss discuss lesbian sex. Not just lesbian sex, but a particularly enthralling pair of positions. She recalled Jacqueline walking in on she and her friends testing the mechanics of a sex position once before and how adamant the blonde had been that it was definitely possible. She felt warmth spread throughout her body. She was happy when the mockup meeting broke up.

...

"Where's your shadow?" Jane stood in Jacqueline's doorway watching the editor stare at her computer screen. The last light as the sun disappeared below the horizon gave Jacqueline's skin an delicate glow.

"His dad picked him up."

Jane found it curious that Jacqueline said 'his dad' rather than 'my husband' or even Ian's name. She had heard the talk around the office that the editor-in-chief had split from her husband, but nobody knew the facts as Jacqueline was such a private person.

"Have a drink with me while I finalize layouts?" she said, nodding toward the liquor and glasses on the sideboard.

Taking the initiative, Jane poured two glasses and delivered one to her boss. She leaned against the wall behind Jacqueline's desk. She had a view of the layouts on the screen and Jacqueline's lithe fingers as they danced on the keyboard.

"Do you think Connor got a good idea of what _Scarlet_ is?" Jane sipped her drink, memorizing Jacqueline's profile.

"I do. He enjoyed himself. I may never stop hearing about how cool Alex is," she smiled.

"Ah, he charmed Connor, too. It's his superpower. He has that effect on everyone."

Jacqueline wondered if Alex had charmed Jane the way he had Sutton. She had never walked in on employees sharing an intimate moment until that day in the stairwell when she found Alex and Sutton kissing.

"When you applied and said that _Scarlet_ was like having an older sister to turn to and rely on, you had been reading the magazine for years, right?" Jacqueline asked without ever turning toward Jane.

"Yes, I began reading it when I was twelve or thirteen," Jane wondered why this was of interest.

"We are unquestionably a women's magazine. We've been courting men, spreading scary feminism to the opposite sex, but we've never considered young men. Young women—teenagers—rely on our honesty. Should young men receive a similar offering?" Jacqueline continued typing and rearranging layouts while she spoke.

"I guess I don't know what that might look like. I wouldn't doubt that they're sneaking a peek at Sage's column. The sexual positions can be enlightening," Jane lowered her eyes to avoid the inevitable look from Jacqueline.

"Speaking of sexual positions, I was going to have you grab Kat and test this one out, but I got busy going this afternoon going over edits with Lauren," she at last turned in her chair to face the writer.

"I don't want to print it without testing it and Sage interestingly does not do her research on positions that don't apply to her own sex life," Jacqueline's throat mesmerized Jane as she swallowed the burning liquid. She never grimaced on the first drink.

"I didn't find it particularly technical," Jane rushed, she was afraid her boss was going to suggest they try it.

"Hmm... Have you tried it?" she responded as her fingers traced the ridges of the glass.

Jane coughed and directed her attention to her feet.

"I'm sorry, that's an awfully personal question that is none of the business of your boss."

There was an adorable hue of pink creeping onto Jacqueline's cheeks.

"I have not," the soft and yet forthcoming tone left some intrigue.

When their eyes met Jane knew that the question was coming. She inhaled and exhaled, centering herself. She felt eyes dropping to watch the rise and fall of her chest.

"Will you test it with me? I completely understand if you aren't comfortable. I'm not Kat," Jacqueline didn't expect an instantaneous nod in the affirmative.

"We'll have to move to the ottoman in the fashion closet or the flat couch in the public waiting area," Jane attempted to speak matter-of-factly. "The closet would be more private."

Jane's cheeks turned red with the word 'private'; Jacqueline stood, threw back the remainder of her drink and grabbed the diagram from the pile of layouts.

Making their way through the maze of desks, Jane wished she had more alcohol in her system. Jacqueline felt electricity flashing through her body.

They walked into the fashion closet and the sound of the locking door was disproportionately loud. She both recognized how this could be misconstrued if someone were to walk in on them. It would have been different with Kat or Sutton.

"Big bridge or little bridge first?" Jacqueline asked nonchalantly while slipping off her heels.

"Big."

Jane was paralyzed. Speaking was hard. Even a single word was strangled.

"You're going to have to breathe, Jane," Jacqueline chuckled. "I'll be on the bottom. I think my core strength can handle it."

The editor slipped off her blazer. The camisole beneath rising to reveal an inch of skin above her waistband, she got comfortable on her back. A barely audible gasp passed Jane's lips at the sight of both. Jacqueline had a dancer's body—sensual, strong and flexible.

Looking at the diagram, the blonde slid her backside off of the edge of the ottoman, holding herself in that position with her tight core and strong quads. She looked up at Jane with the expectation that she would climb atop her. The brunette took a deep breath before approaching.

"If you start with straddling me, you can relax into a sitting position on my thighs. Don't worry about placing your weight on me. You're tiny," a wink accompanying the directions made moving treacherous for Jane.

"Relax. Right." She deadpanned.

"If you'd rather not do this, I can get someone to test it first thing in the morning," Jacqueline presented one last out.

The editor's breath caught when contact was made with her thighs. Jane was atop her. She was beginning to question whether she should have given _herself_ an out.

"Breathe," Jane mocked.

Grabbing the diagram, Jane briefly looked and tossed it aside. She waited for the woman beneath her to bend her elbows and place her hands palm up on each side of her irresistible collarbone. She spread her fingers to receive Jane's.

Taking the hint Jane leaned forward, her fingers entwining in the blonde's. She was avoiding eye contact for dear life. If she looked into those blue eyes while in this position she would attach emotions to what should be a professional task despite the physicality of it.

"Umm..." Jacqueline seemed to be having the same battle of not attaching feelings while doing this with her writer. _Her_ writer, she thought. When did Jane become hers? "You'll have to bring your feet up to my knees."

Doing as instructed, Jane's pelvis tipped forward, Jacqueline's abs gave a little and the two movements together caused Jane to contact the older woman's pubic bone. The blonde let out a burst of air like she had been punched in the stomach and Jane's eyes closed as her own breathing changed. This was dangerously exciting.

"I, uh, I'm not sure if this is meant to be a rocking motion. Obviously our hands are busy."

Asking about the dubious mechanics of this act reminded Jane that they were doing this for a strictly professional reason. She thought she'd got a hold of herself and then Jacqueline used their hands to pull Jane closer.

"Kissing and breast play would certainly be doable. And with rocking, friction could prove useful," the editor sounded clinical despite the surge of arousal she felt. She had attempted to take the intensity out of it for her own sake, but the charge had discernibly been upped for Jane.

Jane couldn't take it. Glancing at the diagram, she made her move. She let go of the blonde's hands, unhooked her feet to put them beneath her. She simultaneously slid her backside down Jacqueline's thighs and pulled her knees toward the ottoman. Before bringing her chin to rest a couple inches below the woman's sternum as the second diagram instructed, she made sure to place an arm between their mounds for what was meant to be the _action_ of the position. Her forearm unintentionally moved across Jacqueline's most sensitive spot and the woman beneath Jane moaned.

"The little bridge is more stimulating," Jane hummed.

Brown eyes looked up at Jacqueline whose eyes had closed after she had moaned. Whether it was pleasure or embarrassment that shut her eyelids, she opened them to face the music. She was surprised when she looked down at her chest that Jane's eyes were glued to her.

"This may not have been the best idea I have ever had," her breathing shallow, vulnerable.

"And why is that?" Jane held her breath hoping Jacqueline wouldn't ask her to get off.

"Jane..." she sighed.

Using her feet on the floor for leverage, Jane slowly slipped her arm out from between their bodies; ghosting over the point she had touched before; and rose to where she could look Jacqueline directly in the eye. She used her freed arm to place a hand flat on the ottoman next to unruly blonde locks. She held herself only slightly above Jacqueline's body.

"You were not innocent when you asked me to do this," she whispered.

Jacqueline's knees twitched and the movement so close to Jane's ascending arousal was agonizing.

"No."

That singular word fueled Jane. She lowered her body flat against Jacqueline's and pressed her lips to a pair she had thought of often. She wasn't confident the older woman had continued breathing. She slipped her tongue in anyway.

"Mmm," Jane murmured as their lips parted. Jacqueline was flushed and her pupils dilated. Jane could feel hard nipples against her own chest.

"How's your back holding up?" Jane asked.

"It's the furthest thing from my mind."

Proving she didn't care about the chore this position presented, Jacqueline thrust her hips upward hitting Jane's mound. She grabbed the back of the brunette's neck and resumed their kiss. When Jacqueline's tongue tickled the roof of Jane's mouth, the writer wished for nothing more than a lack of clothing.

Rocking back after breaking the kiss, Jane stood and relished the grunt of dissatisfaction from the woman beneath her. There was no question that the other woman wanted more. She held out a hand to let Jacqueline stand. It gave her a break from the punishing bridging. As soon as the blonde was standing, hands were under her satin camisole and it was pulled over her head. Jacqueline was far from self-conscious about her body, but the way Jane was looking at her made her feel unworthy of such overwhelming desire.

"Jane..." she rasped. "We can stop right here."

It killed her to say those five words. There was a moment in Paris when Jacqueline thought she wouldn't be able to contain her hunger for Jane any longer. The _Scarlet _party had gone well into the night and Jane was buzzed, to put it charitably. Kat had disappeared from the party some time before and Richard and Sutton wanted to go stroll through the city at night. Nobody wanted Jane making her way back to the hotel alone. Jacqueline had overheard the conversation and offered to take Jane back with her. In the car on the way back to the hotel Jane had drunkenly complimented the 'classic gender fuck' hairstyle her boss chose. And then the brunette had run her fingers through it causing a chill and a sudden inability to contain what had long been an attraction to the writer. Jacqueline had been leaning in for a kiss when the car stopped in front of the hotel. She backed away and had regretted it ever since. Right now they were beyond that. She didn't truly trust that she could stop now.

"Can we?" Jane hummed, echoing her own thoughts. She hooked both index fingers into the front of Jacqueline's pants, using them to pull the woman to her. "Because I suspect that if we do stop right now it won't be too long from now when we'll be back in this very place. Trying out a new position or driving home from a party in the back of a town car."

Jacqueline's eyes got big. She didn't think Jane remembered that night in Paris.

"Please."

A woman who had been writing for or editing magazines her entire adult life, living in a world of language, was reduced to a single word. She didn't have to repeat it. The fevered kiss began a frenzy of undressing. Clothing strewn all over the floor, hands roaming newfound skin and mouths battling for dominance, they moved toward the ottoman.

"As much as I'd love a repeat performance of the bridge, I'm not as young as I once was. We should stick to more traditional positions," Jacqueline's voice was thick, full of lust.

"Does you on your back with my head between your legs count as traditional?" Jane grinned, pushing Jacqueline down on the ottoman.

"You may be the death of me, Jane Sloan."

In fact, the next morning when they woke in their separate beds and stepped into their separate showers they were both very sore. Whether it was from their activity with their clothes on or what came after, who knew. Both were well worth the pain.

…

"Good morning, folks," Jacqueline walked into the conference room looking like a million bucks. "Connor has returned to school today so you can all resume speaking freely. I appreciate your accommodation of him while he was with us."

Jane crossed her legs and instantly regretted it—an abnormal noise slipping past her lips. She could _really_ feel yesterday's activities. She would not be crossing her legs for the rest of the day. Luckily nobody in the room seemed at all concerned with her unusual contribution to the meeting, nobody but the blonde who had made a similar discovery before the meeting.

"Does anybody have any last minute tweaks? The sex position diagram has been confirmed and approved," she looked briefly at Jane before continuing. "We're ready to go to print."

The small amount of feedback was discussed before the staff left to get started on their next projects.

"Jane?" she stopped the brunette before she stepped through the doorway. "Thanks for your help last night."

"It was my pleasure," she tightened her lips together.

The look they shared promised a repeat performance.

_-finis-_


End file.
